There's even scope for a new breakout figure. The impact of joy provided by Nigel in the first pellicle - so gleefully tending to the overthrow a scapegrace - is largely eroded here, and he watch series off more as a determined jack-pudding than anything else. But he's ably matched by the erotic Gabi, whose disconsolate adoring of Nigel is channelled into two of the pellicle's highlights: Venomous Regard with affection, an overblown light poem with several hints of The Vision Of The Opera; and a wacky, wonderfully rearranged restitution of Gloria Gaynor's I Will Live on.
Unmanageable though its piece of ground may be, Rio 2 breezes through it all with cheeky efficiency and eye-wateringly conspicuous inbreathing of life. But what makes Rio 2 as serviceable as - if not better than - its forerunner is manager Carlos Saldanha's discursive faculty that loss ken of his characters will only loss the pellicle. And so, amidst the strife of mid-air football games and swooping atmospheric figured and rhythmic motion formations, Saldanha roots everything in the big, affectionate hearts of Blu and his extended parents and children. The pellicle - and the privilege - are all the better for it.